


In-Between Years

by kronette



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-28
Updated: 2012-11-28
Packaged: 2017-11-19 17:30:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/575812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kronette/pseuds/kronette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snapshots of the years before and after Rimmer left to become Ace.  Lister learned too late that you should appreciate what you have before it's gone. Completed January 2012.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In-Between Years

Year 2

It didn’t come as a surprise that they were always at each other’s throats. With a ship the size of a small city, you would think one of them would move into separate quarters, but no. Neither was willing to give up the perceived normalcy of keeping the same quarters they had when they were alive and had other humans around, respectively. Close quarters meant short tempers, and again, neither would budge on who was wrong (Rimmer) (Lister) or who was more annoying (Lister) (Rimmer).

The only thing they could agree on was that Rimmer couldn’t physically _do_ anything. He couldn’t leave his leftover food out to conduct mold experiments. He couldn’t spread out his magazines until they covered every surface, including the floor. He couldn’t leave a motorcycle parked just outside the door to their quarters. He couldn’t trim (gnaw) his toenails and leave the clippings all over the floor. He couldn’t leave hazardous waste-like laundry piled on the floor, stinking up the place.

But he could talk. Oh, how he could whine, complain, bitch, order, sneer, bellyache, nag, demand, grumble, criticize and mock. He could wake up at five in the morning and start a rambling conversation with Lister, regardless that Lister was dead to the world, figuratively speaking. He could follow Lister around, nattering on incessantly about nothing at all until Lister was ready to stuff socks down his throat to shut him up.

But talking was all Rimmer had. Lister could eat, drink and touch anything and everything he wanted – except Rimmer. Because while Rimmer couldn’t touch anything, neither could he be touched. Lister was a tactile person, liking to touch people on their shoulder or arm as he spoke to them. He was just friendly and open like that.

Because Lister knew he could do something so ordinary, so precious, that Rimmer never could again, he let Rimmer annoy the smeg out of him.

=-=-=-=

Year 6

Of all the things in all the universe to run into – white and black holes, parallel universes, time fluctuations, genetically engineered life forms – a cool Arnold J. Rimmer was the last expected.

Ace Rimmer was the antithesis of Rimmer, of that there was no doubt. Everyone enjoyed his company, except Rimmer. Ace was everything that Rimmer was not and Rimmer hated him for it. Oh, how he hated him with an intense jealousy that blinded him. Rimmer lashed out the only way he could: verbal abuse heaped on so thick that no one should have believed him – but they did. Rimmer was petty, cowardly, weasely, conniving, manipulative, selfish, arrogant, self-delusional and occasionally cruel, but never to the degree and with the venom he directed toward Ace.

He didn’t hate Ace’s bravado and sexual prowess, though those were traits well worth hating. He loathed the instant adoration Ace garnered when he walked in the room. He despised the ease at which he accomplished such easy camaraderie with everyone. He hated the laughter and, “what a guy!’s” that trailed wherever Ace walked. He abhorred the likable nature that exuded from every pore. He detested Ace’s willingness to toss his life away because it was the “right” thing to do.

No, he hated Ace Rimmer because of the simple truth that was exposed to the world when Ace appeared: Arnold Rimmer hated himself.

=-=-=-=

Year 8

The crew got to experience first-hand just how much Rimmer hated himself when they came to his rescue on the psi-moon. Rimmer’s innermost demons manifested into horrible creatures: self-doubt, mistrust and loneliness, and it was a heartbreaking, terrible mess. Having to save Rimmer from his self-loathing beast would turn out to be a walk in the park when it came to dealing with the ‘low’ version of Rimmer. Only Lister got a true taste of how low Rimmer’s depravity could sink, but it was something he’d never, ever forget.

It was also something he never, ever told Rimmer.

Best to leave sleeping self-loathing beasts lie, and all that.

Oh, Rimmer started to be not so bad (as opposed to a royal smeghead) after their encounter with Ace. He started making attempts at bravado, no matter that the underlying cowardice still reigned. He stood his ground for longer than one protest, sometimes even against a second.

In fact, months after Ace departed their dimension found Rimmer on Waxworld leading an army. _Their_ Rimmer giving orders, being commanding and authoritative, arrogant and boisterous... _their_ Rimmer! Of course, ultimately, he ended up getting everyone killed, but the idea that their Rimmer could have led an army was astounding.

And then, Rimmer made the utmost sacrifice. No, he didn’t kill himself, though that would have been something. No, he fell in love. He fell in love and sacrificed his place on a holoship where he could touch, drink, eat, feel and was required to have sex twice a day. His dream to be somebody, to be an officer, could have been reality on _The Enlightenment_ , but he chose love over duty.

Unheard of, for a selfish coward who didn’t believe in love.

=-=-=-=

Year 11

For Lister, this was forever known as, “the first year without Rimmer.” It was the year that Ace, dying from a fractured light-bee, came back into their lives. Ace confided in Lister about his failed attempts to train Rimmer, and Lister took it upon himself to make sure that Rimmer accepted his responsibility as Ace’s replacement.

It was both the best thing he’d ever done and the worst. He pushed Rimmer to be the man he’d always wanted to be. He forced Rimmer to think about something other than himself, to think of the bigger picture. To be the hero.

Only, Rimmer wasn’t a hero. He didn’t have Ace’s training, charisma, self-depreciation, luck...in short, Rimmer wasn’t Ace, and that was the flaw in Lister’s otherwise damn fine plan. Rimmer as Ace was still a smeggy, cowardly, weasely hologram – only with fantastic hair and inklings of bravery. When he hugged Rimmer goodbye, Lister attributed the twinge in his gut to the curry he’d eaten hours earlier.

It wasn’t until he’d watched Ace’s ship disappear into another dimension that he realized the twinge wasn’t just in his gut. It was bit north of it and the dull ache remained for weeks as his gaze lingered on the empty Navicomp chair and a voice whispered _What have you done?_ in his head.

Not even a substitute not-his-Kochanski made up for Rimmer not being around. Rimmer was unique. A unique smeghead, to be sure, but no one could replace him. Lister made do with not-his-Kochanski, but it wasn’t the same.

The dream of Rimmer returning and kissing him certainly woke Lister up, and not just from the dream. It was as if Lister had come out of the thick London fog into a sunny day: everything seemed clearer. Hours later in the cockpit of Starbug, Lister could still recall that dream kiss. Not that it did him any good; Rimmer was in another dimension, saving damsels in distress.

Rimmer’s absence was overtaken briefly in Lister’s mind by the discovery of who his parents were. No one anywhere in the universe would have ever guessed that it was himself and not-his-Kochanski. At least now he knew he was loved and cared for until his baby self had to be dropped off at the Aigbuth Arms pub. It was a small comfort, but small comforts were what Lister lived for nowadays.

=-=-=-=

Year 15

Lister clasped the unconscious man to his chest and refused to let go, even after Kryten tried to forcibly separate them.

Most of Ace’s suit was still smoking when Lister finally released him and pulled back to get a good look at the man he’d pulled from the burning cockpit.

Ace’s wig was askew, draped over his face in an unflattering wave. Soot covered what Lister could see of Rimmer’s face. He pushed the wig off of Rimmer’s head to get a better look. A long gash on his temple sent blood sluicing down over his closed eyes to mingle with the dirt. Rimmer was filthy, wounded and smelled like the ashes after a bonfire.

To Lister, Rimmer had never looked better.

He and Kryten half-carried Rimmer to the medi-bay, the hologram stubbornly remaining unconscious throughout the walk, the unceremonious dumping onto the bed and the diagnostic that Kryten started. Lister watched Rimmer’s eyes, but there wasn’t a flicker of movement to indicate that he was awake or aware.

He’d obviously been through something hellacious, as Ace’s ship had all but crashed into _Red Dwarf_ ’s landing bay. Ace’s customary greeting had been absent; instead a very Rimmer-like shrill, “Open the landing bay doors! I can’t control her!” had been their only verbal contact with Rimmer. Ace’s ship had a fire in her starboard engine as she staggered into the landing bay. _Red Dwarf_ ’s automatic fire suppression system had taken care of it, but Ace’s ship would need serious repairs if it were to fly again.

As for the hologram himself…Lister tried to make sense of the diagnostic gibberish that scrolled across the screen, but it was hopeless. He chewed on his fingernail as he anxiously watched Kryten process the information. He barely noticed Cat and Kris enter the medi-bay behind him.

“Well?” he finally asked, unable to stand Kryten’s silence.

Kryten’s fingers drummed on his chestplate, a sure sign he was distressed. “Would you prefer the bad or good news first, sir?”

Lister’s anxiety skyrocketed, but he braced himself. “Just tell me, Kryten.”

“He has smoke damage to his lungs and second degree burns on his hands and forearm,” Kryten rattled off. “The gash on his temple would have killed a human instantly.”

“But he’s okay otherwise?” Lister asked, hopeful. Maybe that was the worst of Kryten’s bad news. Rimmer had been conscious enough to request the doors be opened and fly the ship into the landing bay. That was good, right?

“Yes.” Kryten’s voice rose in pitch, a sure sign he was about to unleash the bad news, and Lister’s heart sank. He demanded, “Then what it is, Krytes? Tell me, man!”                   

“That is not Mr. Ace,” Kryten’s voice was nearing decibel levels above human hearing range. “It’s Mr. Rimmer. _Our_ Mr. Rimmer.”

Lister stared at the mechanoid, anticipating much more, but Kryten’s mouth just opened and closed without making a sound. He looked positively gobsmacked, and it took Lister a moment to realize why. Kryten, Cat and Kris didn’t know that Rimmer was Ace. Smeg. This wasn’t going to go well. Not at all.  Lister tried to sound irritated as he asked, “That’s your bad news? He’s not dying or anything?”

Kryten looked as though he were scandalized. “Mr. Lister, sir, I don’t believe you heard me. That is not Ace Rimmer, space hero. That is the smeeee-heeee Arnold J. Rimmer.”

“ _What_?” Cat’s voice rose on a horrified wail behind Lister. “You better check those scans again, condom-head. Ace Rimmer is the coolest cat this side of me. Goalpost-head was nothing but a waste of air space. Tell him, buddy,” Cat pleaded in Lister’s direction.

Lister’s anxiety returned along with dread at Kris’ confused, “Dave?”

Smeg. He’d all but poured his heart out to her about missing Rimmer and let her assume it was for the Rimmer who’d died. Lister knew that keeping secrets was a bad idea, but this particular one was special. It involved not one, but two different versions of Rimmer, and both of them had relied on him in their own way. He rubbed a hand over his face and braced himself for the truth. “Kryten’s right. That’s Rimmer. When we saw Ace last, he told me he was dying. I promised him I’d make Rimmer take his place as part of the long line of Aces. I did some stuff to make Rimmer believe he could be Ace and it worked. When Ace died, I gave him Rimmer’s funeral instead.”

He winced at the wounded look Kryten was shooting him. Cat could have eviscerated him with that glare, and Kris’ hurt expression pinched at something in his chest. He deserved their anger and hurt as he’d lied to them for years. “I’m sorry, all right? Once Rimmer was gone, I didn’t see a point to telling their secret. Rimmer wasn’t supposed to come back, was he? Ace goes off and does his thing and he doesn’t come back. That’s the deal.”

“I made it?” a weak voice drew their attention. Rimmer’s eyes were open and he was staring at Lister.

Lister was at his side in three steps, staring down into haunted eyes. He’d seen that look once before, on a psi-moon where Rimmer’s fears were on display. “What the hell happened, Rimmer? You barreled in here with your ship on fire.”

Rimmer’s eyes closed but not before Lister saw the deep pain reflected in them. “I can’t - it’s too soon.” Rimmer’s eyes flicked open and the pain was replaced by desperation. “Please, Listy.”

Lister didn’t know when his hand came to rest on Rimmer’s shoulder, but he squeezed it in assurance. “Whatever you need, man.”

Rimmer’s hand gripped his from his shoulder and nearly crushed it, but what really hurt Lister was the wild desperation in Rimmer’s eyes. “Don’t leave me alone.”

He repeated, “Whatever you need,” and with a nod, Rimmer released his death-grip on Lister’s hand.

Lister flexed his hand discreetly, scared of what could have driven Rimmer to that level of panic. “Is there anything I can get you? What about your wounds; can your program heal you, or …?”

Tears filled Rimmer’s eyes as he shook his head. “I don’t know. The ship’s computer, she’s –,” his voice cracked, “–can’t help me. I’m alone, Listy. I’m scared,” he admitted on a whisper.

This time Lister knew exactly why his hand went to Rimmer’s shoulder and gave him a reassuring squeeze. “You’re not alone, Rimmer. You’ve got me. We’ll figure this out. Don’t I always?” A flicker of a smile disappeared off Rimmer’s lips almost before Lister noticed it. “You rest up, and me and the crew will see what we can do about your ship’s computer, okay?”

Rimmer nodded and his eyes closed with a muted sigh.

Lister chewed his lower lip nervously. What the _smeg_ had Rimmer been doing to get so messed up? A touch to his shoulder startled him; he’d forgotten anyone else was in the room. Kris nodded to the doorway and he followed her, Cat and Kryten into the hallway.

“He’s in a bad way,” Kryten admitted quietly, “And I’m not speaking wholly about his physical wounds.”

“Yes,” Kris agreed, “Psychological trauma at best. It looks and sounds like he’s been through hell.”

Cat’s expression was a mix of confusion, fear and anxiety. “Ace is dead?”

“Not now, Cat,” Lister begged the feline. They had more important things to worry about. “What can we do for Rimmer?” he asked Kryten and Kris. “How can we help him?”

Kris, bless her Space Corps heart, took charge. “Right. Kryten, check the hologrammatic records and see if there have been any instances of wounds like Rimmer sustained and how they were healed. Lister,--”

Kryten interrupted her. “But ma’am, _Red Dwarf_ only has records on soft light holograms. Mr. Rimmer’s hard light came from Legion and his creators' genius.”

She glared at Kryten. “Find a way. Lister, you’re with me. We’re going to see if the computer on Ace’s ship is still functional.”

Lister stared after her retreating back. “Kris, I’m not leaving his side.”

She turned to stare at him, eyebrows raised. “What?”

He crossed his arms. “I made him a promise. I’m not leaving him alone.” He nodded at the still vexed Cat. “Take Cat with you, but I’m staying here.”

A sort of understanding lit Kris’ eyes, but Lister didn’t know what it was she understood. Her features went soft and it kicked Lister in the gut. It was the look she – his Krissy – used to fix him with during their three week love affair. “Stay with him, but don’t push him on what happened. His state of mind is fragile and it might set him off. Wait until I can retrieve the black box or records of what happened aboard the ship, then we may know enough to help him.”

Lister felt a grateful smile curl his lips. “Thanks.” He watched Kris grab Cat’s arm and haul him toward the landing bay. Kryten fussed and muttered to himself as he stomped off toward the holo projection unit, leaving Lister alone with Rimmer.

Lister stood in the doorway, watching the restless Rimmer. Rimmer’s face was pinched as if in pain and his mouth was turned down in a grimace. Lister suspected it wasn’t from his physical injuries, but Kris had said not to talk about what happened. So, what could he do?

A choked-off groan had him at Rimmer’s side in an instant. “Rimmer? Can you hear me?”

Rimmer’s eyes flew open, wild and unseeing. Rimmer clutched at his shoulders and demanded, “Did they make it?”

Lister didn’t think, he just answered, “Yeah, they made it.” It seemed to be the answer Rimmer was looking for, as the hologram slowly focused on Lister and began to blink.

“Lister?”

The intense green-eyed stare was unsettling. Lister’s face felt hot, his stomach was in knots and his dick seemed to think that laser-intensive stare was directed at it. _Smeg_ , it was the same stare from his dream all those years ago! Right before he and Rimmer kissed. Lister swallowed thickly and reminded Rimmer, “I said I wouldn’t leave you.”

Rimmer’s grip on his shoulders lessened and the hologram nodded. “I remember.” The desperate, haunted look returned to Rimmer’s eyes and Lister’s stomach knotted tighter.

Not knowing what else to do, Lister retrieved a water basin and some cloth and began to clean Rimmer’s face and hands. He started to shake as Rimmer let him pick up his hand and wipe the filth away. Rimmer hated being touched, hated being seen as weak. Rimmer was supposed to be moody and pouty, not wounded and fragile. He didn’t know how to act around this Rimmer. “I’m not supposed to ask you what happened or if you want to talk about it, but is there anything you do want to talk about?” Lister babbled, hating the quiet that settled around Rimmer.

It took a moment, but Rimmer’s eyes eventually flicked to the empty doorway. “Did I see Kochanski?”

Some of Lister’s nerves settled as Rimmer became more animated. Anything was better than the vacant stare. Lister tossed the blackened cloth into the basin and settled down in a chair. “Yeah. Picked her up not long after you left. Her dimension’s Lister was a hologram and she survived the radiation. We’ve been looking for a way back to her dimension, but no luck. She’s taken to us, mostly,” he admitted, “Though Kryten still doesn’t trust her.”

Rimmer frowned. “Why not? She’s human, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, that’s why Kryten doesn’t like her,” he explained with a long-suffering sigh. “No matter how many times we tell Kryten we’re not interested in each other, he still insists I like her better than him.” He shook his head. “It’s insane for a mechanoid to feel jealous.”

Rimmer’s gaze sharpened and it took Lister aback. It was Ace’s stare, full of confidence. “You’ve never been on the outside, looking in, have you?” Rimmer stated. “You’ve always been the one involved with someone, and people like Kryten and me are on the outside, dreading the day when we’ll be dumped or ignored.”

Lister felt his mouth hanging open. “I- what?”

Rimmer deflated before his eyes. “I’m sorry, Lister. I’m a mess right now and not thinking clearly.” His flat, “Just ignore me,” stabbed at Lister’s heart.

“Hey,” Lister poked Rimmer’s leg gently to get his full attention. “Hey, I can’t ignore you. I don’t want to, and I certainly don’t mean to, anyway. You’ve been gone a few years and you’ve changed, I reckon. I’ve changed, too. You’ve got to give me a chance, just like I’ve got to give you a chance. All right?”

Rimmer’s expression twisted into something Lister had never seen before: contrition. “You’re right.” It looked as though Rimmer was forcibly pushing memories aside before he asked, “So, tell me what’s been happening since I left. I see you found _Red_ _Dwarf_. How did that happen?”

Lister licked his lips, readying himself to begin the long tale, when Rimmer’s eyes on his mouth distracted him. Yes, Rimmer’s gaze was definitely fixated on his lips, and the longing in his gaze nearly sent Lister toppling over. What the smeg?

“Rimmer, can I ask you something?” Lister asked quietly as his heart pounded in his chest. Rimmer couldn’t mean what he thought he meant, could he? Why else stare at his lips and look like a starving man at a Chinese buffet?

“Hmm?” Rimmer didn’t look up.

He felt heat on his cheeks as he asked, “Are you staring at me mouth for any particular reason?”

Rimmer’s gaze snapped up, horrified. “What? No.”

The blush on Rimmer’s cheeks said otherwise and Lister’s confidence rose. Rimmer _did_ feel the same way. Filled with his normal, healthy confidence, Lister teased, “So it’s just a general stare, then? Some fascination with the way I form words?”

Rimmer’s blush intensified and turned his head away. “Don’t mock. I’m so sick of the mocking and taunts. I’m not that person anymore.”

It was Lister’s turn to be contrite. “You’re right, Rimmer. I’m sorry. It’s just –” Should he tell Rimmer about his dream? Should he tell Rimmer how much he’d missed him, how much he regretted sending him off to be Ace? It had taken him far too long to realize how much Rimmer meant to him. It was high time he let the man know. “I’ve been thinking about you.”

Rimmer turned back to look at him, his expression one of utter surprise. “Me?”

Lister managed a small smile despite the sorrow he felt at Rimmer’s reaction. No one should be surprised that they were thought of and missed. “Yeah, man. I’ve been worried about you.”

Rimmer’s shock disintegrated as his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You didn’t think I could cut it as Ace, did you?”

Lister fidgeted under Rimmer’s stare. It wasn’t that he didn’t think Rimmer could be Ace, it was more fear that Rimmer would get himself killed. It wasn’t the same thing. It _wasn’t_. “I had faith in you,” he defended himself. “I’d seen you change over the years, Rimmer. I wouldn’t have pushed you to replace Ace if I didn’t think you could do it.”

The haunted look returned to Rimmer’s expression. “I was good, then I got cocky. I turned into the arrogant gimboid we met. I took too many chances and people died.”

Lister fidgeted some more and shot a glance to the doorway, expecting Kris to be there reprimanding him. “Rimmer, you don’t have to talk about it. Kris said…”

“To hell with Kristine Kochanski,” Rimmer ground out between clenched teeth. “I killed over 400 humans!”

Lister had to let that one sink in. It wasn’t possible. Rimmer wasn’t capable of killing _a_ human, let alone 400. He just wasn’t. “You what?”

Rimmer’s voice was ragged and quiet as he recounted, “The Simulants in Dimension 4391 set a trap for me. I was under attack by one of their ships. I got in a clean shot and destroyed the ship, only it was their prisoner ship being remotely controlled. I killed the very people I was sent to rescue!”

Tears streamed down Rimmer’s horrified face, and Lister was unable stop his own tears. The broken, lost tone in Rimmer’s voice would have shattered the coldest heart, and Lister already had a soft spot for the man. No one should ever hurt so much that they made that sound.

To Lister’s dismay, Rimmer’s nightmare wasn’t finished. “The Simulant leader laughed when he told me what I’d done. I was so shocked, so horrified, that I didn’t notice they were bombarding my ship. When the alarms finally penetrated my haze, half the ship was on fire. I had just enough fuel for a dimension jump to escape.”

Rimmer’s face, which had always been so closed off, now ran wild with emotions: hatred, disgust, fear, despair, revulsion and shame. “I ran with my tail between my legs. I’ve utterly destroyed the legacy that Ace left behind. I’ll be forever known as Ace Rimmer: Goited Failure. Who will trust Ace now? Who would dare? I wouldn’t trust me.”

Lister sniffed back a few more tears and was surprised to hear his own voice quietly state, “I would.”

Rimmer’s laugh was hollow. “Don’t pretend to be nice. I don’t deserve it.”

It was so odd to hear Rimmer taking the blame for something, and yet _this_ something was beyond his control and absolutely, totally not his fault. “You made a mistake, Rimmer. You said yourself it was a trap. How were you to know?”

“I’m _Ace Rimmer_ , damn it! I _know_ these things!” Rimmer shouted, then all the life seemed to drain out of him. He slumped back in the bed and stared at the ceiling. “I _should_ know these things. How could I not know? Why didn’t I see?”

Lister’s mind was racing. He had to get Rimmer to see that of all the things he could be blamed for, this was not one of them. “Simulants learn and adapt. No doubt the more they encountered Ace, the more they adapted to him. It was only a matter of time before they got the drop on him. It just happened to be you.”

Rimmer laughed bitterly. “Of course, old Arnie J Rimmer gets the bad luck again. Why can I never do anything right? I was handed a legacy of doing no wrong and I managed to botch it up.”

 _This_ Rimmer he understood. Lister knew how to handle this Rimmer. “How long were you Ace? Four years?”

Rimmer shrugged and kept his face turned away.

Lister prodded, “You’re trying to tell me that in four years, you didn’t do any good? You didn’t rescue anyone? You didn’t save the day, not once?”

“Of course not,” Rimmer snipped as he glared up at him. “I saved plenty of people.”

It took a minute, but Lister had patience. He watched the realization sink into Rimmer, the rejection of the facts and logic, the reevaluation of the facts and logic, then the sheepish acceptance that maybe, possibly, this actually _wasn’t_ his fault.

Lister smiled at him fondly. “You made one mistake. A big one, I’ll give you that, but it’s just _one mistake_. That doesn’t negate the good you’ve done as Ace, or the Aces before you. Not all heroes do right all the time.”

“Ace does,” Rimmer insisted, the pigheaded smegger.

Lister rolled his eyes. “All your great generals, did they always win? Or did they lose some battles, too?”

It was Rimmer’s turn to fidget. “That’s different.”

“How?” Lister demanded.

“They weren’t me.” It was lame even for Rimmer, and Lister could see that Rimmer was fishing for someone to tell him that things were okay. That he _wasn’t_ to blame, that he _couldn’t_ have known.

Lister reminded himself that he had patience, and that he’d just gotten Rimmer back, and he actually _liked_ the smeghead. “They had just as much responsibility as you, only they had hundreds of people helping them. You’re just one man. Even Ace isn’t infallible.”

Despite Rimmer’s tears, he quirked an eyebrow. “Infallible, really? Such a big word, Listy.”

“Yeah, well, I said I’d changed,” Lister defended himself huffily as he wiped his face. “Now, enough of this crap. I was supposed to be telling you how we got _Red Dwarf_ back.”

Rimmer reached out and caught Lister’s hand. He stared at it, not looking up at Lister’s face. “I don’t really care about the ship.”

Lister swallowed around the lump in his throat. Rimmer’s hands were hot, probably from the burns, and he shouldn’t be using his hands, should he? “Rimmer…”

“Let me say this,” Rimmer ordered softly. Lister watched the hologram swallow hard, watched the Adam’s apple work, saw the torn and blood-soaked flight suit ragged at Rimmer’s throat and his heart started beating triple-time. A wave of dread washed over him: _he could have lost Rimmer for good._

“I don’t remember punching in my home dimension code to get here, but I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately,” Rimmer began shakily. “I’ve only come across a dozen or so Listers in other dimensions, and it made me wonder what happened to them. Did they join the Space Corps? Did they ever leave Earth? Did I ever meet them? Were they dead…?” Rimmer’s eyes raised to Lister’s. “The thought of you being dead scared the smeg out of me. I didn’t want to die alone, out there where no one knew the real me. You know me, don’t you, Dave?”

There was such hope, such longing in Rimmer’s expression that it nearly broke Lister’s heart. Rimmer was terrified, that was plain to see, but what terrified him more was up for debate. That Lister knew exactly what he meant and felt the same, or that Lister knew exactly what he meant but didn’t care.

Lister cared, more than he should. More than he let on to Kris. Smeg, he’d even gone back into that stupid Rimmer Experience a few times – okay, a few dozen – because no matter how hokey, it was still his Rimmer. And wasn’t that the truth, right there? Ever since Holly had reactivated him, Rimmer had been a thorn in his side. A right pain in the arse. He’d been brought back to keep Lister sane, and he’d done a bang-up job, right up until he’d left as Ace and Lister’s world had been spun off its axis.

His voice sounded old to his ears as he said, “I worried about you getting killed out there. How I’d never know if it happened. I hated feeling helpless. I wanted to be out there, with you.”

The kiss that Rimmer pulled him down into was more awkward than anything remotely romantic or even nice. Lister gentled him, pulled back and started again, aligning their noses so they could snog properly. Muted sounds filled the space between them, though Lister didn’t know who was making them. Lips parted and tongues slicked against each other, while Lister’s hands stroked through Rimmer’s real hair, something he’d always wanted to do. The curls were no longer tight, but loose and encircled his fingers as he clutched at them.

He felt Rimmer tugging at his dreads and shirt and pushed closer until he was draped over the hologram on the bed. He got lost in the taste and texture and soft, encouraging sounds. Rimmer may not need to breathe, but Lister did and he pulled back with a gasp. “Easy, Rimmer. We don’t need to make up for lost years in five minutes.”

Rimmer was very grabby for such an anal-retentive git. His hands seemed to be everywhere at once. Lister moaned as Rimmer sucked down his neck and along his collarbone. “Yes, we do,” Rimmer answered, but Lister had forgotten the question. His toes were curling in his boots and where in the smeg did Rimmer learn _that_ move with his tongue? He couldn’t ask, though, as said tongue was currently mapping the roof of his mouth.

He gasped as Rimmer released the near vacuum hold his mouth had on his, then groaned as Rimmer once again affixed himself to his neck.

“I always thought you’d taste like curry,” Rimmer mumbled against the side of his neck.

“Dreamed of kissing you,” Lister muttered as he nibbled at Rimmer’s earlobe.

Rimmer’s warmth pulled away and Lister groaned his disappointment. “Come back here, smegger.”

“You dreamt of kissing me?” Rimmer asked, slightly out of breath.

“What?” Lister blinked and tried to form a coherent thought. His head was still buzzing with the attacks of Rimmer’s mouth. “Yeah, after you left. Dreamed you came back and I kissed you.”

The rarest thing Lister had ever seen suddenly bloomed before him. Rimmer’s smile could have lit four solar systems, it was so bright and genuine. The most amazing thing was that it reached his eyes and completely transformed him. The old, arrogant Rimmer was obliterated from Lister’s memory as this new, happy Rimmer pulled him down and proceeded to try to crawl inside him via his mouth.

Thankfully, it was some time later that Kryten stumbled across them. They’d managed to make a mess of themselves, the bed and some of the floor with their enthusiasm. Actually, more Rimmer’s than Lister’s, but not for lack of wanting.

Rimmer had demons he needed to erase and Lister understood that. Just as he’d allowed Rimmer to annoy the smeg out of him all those years ago, now he allowed Rimmer whatever he wanted – and more – when it came to showing how much he’d missed Lister. And Lister showed how very, very grateful he was, not just that Rimmer was back, but that Rimmer felt the same way.

Sated and sticky, Lister lay half on top of Rimmer who still had his hand wrapped possessively around Lister’s dreads. “Are you going to be letting me go any time soon?” Lister teased as he felt his heart rate return to normal.

Rimmer leaned in and nuzzled his ear. “No,” he stated firmly and Lister’s toes curled again. When the smeg had Rimmer gotten so authoritative? When did that become a turn-on for one Dave Lister? And why the hell was Lister even questioning it?

He let out a contented sigh. “You know the others will be back.”

Rimmer’s distracted, “So?” brushed against the curve of his ear and he shivered.

Lister found himself with his nose buried in Rimmer’s neck, nipping at the flesh. “I’m just saying, if you don’t want them to know about us, sitting here in our own spunk isn’t exactly the way to go about hiding it.”

“Don’t care,” Rimmer answered as he licked a stripe up Lister’s neck to his ear, where he paused to nibble the earlobe. “The universe can go to hell. I’m not leaving.”

The meaning behind that statement penetrated the afterglow buzz and Lister pulled back slowly. “You’re giving up Ace?” He tried not to sound accusatory or hopeful, but he was torn. The universe needed Ace, but Lister needed Arnold.

Rimmer stated flatly, “Word will get around about my fiasco. No one will trust the name Ace Rimmer again, so why bother? I’m sure the universe got along fine before Ace Rimmer became a space hero. It will go on without me.”

“I don’t want you to go,” Lister said as he twirled a lock of Rimmer’s hair around his finger. “Not when you just came back to us. But don’t you feel some obligation to Ace?”

The haunted look returned to Rimmer’s gaze. “No. I’m done playing the hero. I want to hang up the stupid suit and fabulous hair. I want to stay.” He swallowed. “With you.”

Lister practically melted under Rimmer’s heated gaze. It would be so easy to give in. So easy to lean forward and lose himself in Rimmer all over again.

A very high-pitched squeak sent them both jumping guiltily and turning toward the door, where Kryten was staring at them, bug-eyed. “S-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s…”

“Easy, Kryten,” Lister tried to calm the mechanoid as he tugged his pants back up. Rimmer straightened his ruined suit, but it was blatantly obvious what the two men had been up to.

Kryten bashed his head against the doorframe a few times until the stutter lessened. “Sirs,” he began, then his mouth froze open.

Lister walked over to the mechanoid and slapped the back of his head.

“Thank you, Mr. Lister,” Kryten said primly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to bleach these eyeballs and put in my spare set. Perhaps erasing the past few minutes from my memory banks would be in order.”

“It’s not like you walked in on us doing anything, Kryten,” Lister admonished him.

Kryten’s eye twitched. “I believe I’ll need some brain bleach as well.”

“Come off it, Kryten. Did you come in here for a reason?” Lister asked, embarrassed and annoyed. 

Kryten’s disgust vanished as he seemed to recall his mission. “Oh! I may have a solution for Mr. Rimmer’s burns. It should be possible to revert Mr. Rimmer’s hands and arm to a previously saved version of Mr. Rimmer.”

Rimmer sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “It would only affect my projection? It wouldn’t do anything to my memories?”

Kryten barely paused. “I don’t believe so, sir. It’s strictly an alteration program, much like when the projection unit would change your clothes or hair.”

Rimmer’s gaze turned distant as he sucked on his lower lip. “If you’re absolutely sure it won’t revert my memories, I’m up for it.”

Kryten looked slightly offended. “No doubt your time as Ace Rimmer has made you cocky and self-assured, but I do know a thing or two about computers,” the mechanoid sulked.

Lister hated to interject with a bad memory, but this was potentially Rimmer’s life they were talking about. “What about the washing machine malfunction last month?”

“It wasn’t a malfunction,” Kryten cried defensively. “Frank was being bossy. He refused to run the spin cycle a second time!”

“Who is Frank?” Rimmer questioned.

“The washing machine, of course,” Kryten replied snippily. “Who else do you think I was referring to?”

Lister shook his head at Rimmer, who looked about to ask another question. “We should contact Kris and see how she’s coming with the ship’s computer.”

“I need to check on her,” Rimmer insisted and slid off the bed to stand. Instead of a confident swagger, Rimmer more resembled a drunken penguin as he ambled toward the lift to take him to the landing bay.

Lister motioned for Kryten to remain behind while he rode the lift with Rimmer. “Should I be jealous of your ship?” he quipped cheekily.

The side of Rimmer’s mouth curled up. “No, though the old girl’s got a crush on Ace; always has from what I understand. I like my partners warmer and softer.”

Lister squeaked as Rimmer pinched his bum. “Oi!” he protested as he rubbed the tingling spot. “Just how many partners have you had, anyway? Last count, it was two.” He didn’t want to admit to jealousy, but…he was jealous. For Rimmer to kiss like that, to exude that level of confidence, meant he’d done more than heroics and rescues. Some of those grateful rescuees surely had thanked Ace in their special hands-on way.

The newfound confidence hardened Rimmer’s features. “Just because I slept with them doesn’t mean I loved any of them. I cared about them, yes, but never love.”

“Whoa, who said anything about love?” Lister asked, but in the back of his mind, he knew he’d been fishing. Not just to find out how many lovers Rimmer had had as Ace, but how many had meant something to the hologram. Rimmer only raised an eyebrow at him and it was enough to break him. “Fine, all right. I’m jealous of your multitude of conquests.” He paused. “Even if you didn’t love them.”

“I sent them all away…immensely satisfied,” Rimmer proclaimed smugly with a wink. He reached out and Lister took his hand, allowing himself to be pulled forward.

He and Rimmer were nose to nose, breathing deepening until they were in synch. Rimmer’s voice was low, sinking deep into his bones with each syllable. “I couldn’t love any of them because I was hoping, someday, to come back here to you. It wasn’t until I was gone I realized how I felt, but it was too late. I couldn’t pop right back and admit it; you would have laughed at me. So I rescued people and defeated GELFs and tried to become a man you could love.”

Lister could scarcely breathe. He was terrified of breaking the spell they were both under, the anticipation thick in the air between them. If he said the wrong thing, did the wrong thing, it would ruin a perfect moment. He leaned up with the intent to brush a kiss along Rimmer’s mouth, balancing himself with hands braced on Rimmer’s shoulders. The second their lips touched, the kiss deepened and Rimmer’s arms came around him, crushing him to his chest.

Lister hung on for dear life as the lift shuddered and stopped, but he didn’t stop nibbling at Rimmer’s lips. “Loved you before you left, you git,” he muttered. “Took your leaving to realize it.”

They continued to nibble and lick at each other until Rimmer pulled back and gave a pointed look over Lister’s shoulder. Lister turned around and gave a half-hearted smile to Kris, whose cheeks were bright red but her lips were stretched in a wide grin.

She opened her mouth as if to speak, several times, and finally ended up saying, “We should be able to repair your ship, Rimmer.”

Some of Lister’s enthusiasm waned. Despite what Rimmer had said, he’d been Ace for years. Giving that up might be harder than he thought. He followed close behind Rimmer as the walked around the battered ship.

“The old girl is in a hell of a shape,” Rimmer muttered as his gaze swept the burn-marked side and cockpit. “You think she’ll fly again?”

Kris’ blush had faded and now she looked concerned. “I don’t see why not. The starboard engine will need to be rebuilt, of course, but we should have the parts. A lot of the circuitry in the cockpit is melted, but I’m sure we can find replacement…”

“That circuitry controlled the jump drive,” Rimmer snapped. “It’s irreplaceable. Without it she’s just another ship. She was made to jump between dimensions. That’s her purpose. Without that…I’d rather scrap her than hobble her like that.”

“Rimmer, you can’t just…kill your ship like that,” Lister reprimanded him softly. “If you can make her fly again, you should do it.”

Rimmer rounded on him, eyes flashing. “Are you going to explain to the AI that she’ll never jump again? That she’ll never have Ace sitting in her cockpit again, regaling her of stories of his wild adventures? She’s in love with me; it would kill her.”

Lister dropped his voice to an urgent whisper. “It’s exactly because she loves you that you should repair her. Having part of what you want is better than not having it at all.” He narrowed his eyes at seeing the stubborn set of Rimmer’s jaw and clasped his burned hands, ignoring Rimmer’s quick intake of breath. “If she’s that sentient, then it’s your duty to fix her as much as you can. We won’t leave you half-healed and you shouldn’t leave her wounded, either.”

Rimmer’s assuredness transformed into an awkward silence. “I suppose you’re right,” he muttered. He turned to Kris. “I’ll start making a list of parts I’ll need, as soon as I get my hands taken care of.” He turned back to Lister. “We’ll fix her up.”

“That we will,” Lister promised.

=-=-=-=-=

“Ace, I don’t feel so g-good,” the ship’s computer stuttered, her normally seductive tone jerky and full of static.

“I know, old girl,” Rimmer murmured as he stroked a hand along the control panel. “I’ve had to do some serious rework on your systems. We had a bit of a fire and some smoke damage, but we’re fixing you as best we can.”

Static hissed for a few seconds, then the AI asked, “Who is ‘we’? Where are we, Ace? My external sensors aren’t functional.” She paused, then announced, “There are 2 intruders on board!”

“Easy, love,” Rimmer shushed her. “Those are my friends. You remember Spanners? This is another version of him, Dave Lister.”

Lister, face streaked with grease and t-shirt ragged, waved a hand toward the sensor eye. “Hiya.”

“And the female?” the computer asked warily.

Rimmer chuckled. “Krissy Kochanski, not of this dimension, but still a fine Space Corps officer. She’s helped gather the parts necessary to rebuild your engine.”

Kris, face and clothes also streaked with grease, waved at the sensor eye. “Hello. Don’t mind me, I have no interest in Rimmer.”

“Oi!” Lister barked and waved a soldering iron between Kris and Rimmer. “We agreed not to bring that up straight away.”

The AI sounded very small and insecure. “Ace, what’s going on?”

Rimmer leaned down and whispered, “I’m sorry, love, but as much as I can fix you, the jump drive is toast. We’re stuck here, in my home dimension. You won’t get to fly the stars like you deserve.” She didn’t answer, and Rimmer frowned. “Love?” he prodded.

More static, then the ship’s speakers emitted what sounded like crying. “It’s okay,” the AI assured him, despite the crackling in her voice. “I’d rather fly with you in one dimension than not fly at all.”

Rimmer closed his eyes and clasped his hand over Lister’s, which had come to rest on his shoulder. Rimmer had warned Lister that this might happen; that the ship was so devoted to Ace she couldn’t abide anything other than his constant presence.

“Love, you know you’ve meant the world to me. To all us Aces,” Rimmer began, trying to ignore the disturbing sound of crackling sniffles through the speakers. “But I’m hanging up the suit. I’m home and I want to stay.”

The sniffling got louder. “It’s a woman, isn’t it? You found a woman you think is deserving of your love.”

Rimmer bit back a sigh. How could he explain his choice to a computer who only saw him as a womanizer? “I promise you, it isn’t another woman. It’s this man here, Lister.” Rimmer slipped his arm around Lister’s waist and rested his temple against Lister’s stomach. “And he very much deserves my love, just as I deserve his.” At the computer’s silence, he continued, “I enjoyed my time as Ace, but you know I was never truly happy. The constant stream of lovers wasn’t satisfying. They didn’t make me whole. Lister does.”

“ _’Constant stream of lovers’_?” Lister hissed above him.

Rimmer hissed, “Not _now_ , Dave.” He directed his attention back to the ship. “It was Dave who convinced me that fixing you was the right thing to do. I wanted to leave you dead so you wouldn’t have to face not being able to jump, or not having me fly you.”

Loud, crackling static filled the cabin, then the AI irately shouted, “You were going to leave me to rot?”

“I’m sorry, love,” Rimmer hastily apologized. “Like I said, Dave convinced me that fixing you was the right thing to do. That you were a ship born to fly, and fly you must, even if it wasn’t between dimensions. We’re fixing you now, so you’ll be able to take us to local planetoids. Unless you think short-range transport is too demeaning for a ship of your caliber and programming.”

He crossed his fingers behind Lister’s back, hoping the slight dig would work. The ship’s ego was extremely fragile, almost as much as Rimmer’s had been his first few months on board. The computer had prodded him in much the same way to get him to see his true potential, and he felt it was time to return the favor. Besides, she was a gorgeous ship and he really did hate the thought of never flying her again.

Finally, after much static hissing, the AI purred, “I accept this new assignment, on one condition. You fly me, Ace. _Only_ you.”

Rimmer slowly released the breath he’d been holding. “No one else’s hands will touch your controls, love.”

The old flicker of sauciness cooed through the speakers. “Ace, you always did know how to turn my crank.”

Lister sniggered above him and he pinched his lover in retaliation. “Anything for my girl. Now, we’ve got to check on the engine rebuild. We’ll work on getting your diagnostic functions back up and running so you can direct us on how to fix the rest of you. Before our first run, we’ll tickle you with a new dash of paint and you’ll look good as new.”

Rimmer smirked as he heard the AI moan softly. “I haven’t had a tickle since I was built.”

“Are you in for a treat, then,” Lister teased. Rimmer pinched him again, and Lister tugged at a lock of his hair.

“Back in a bit,” Rimmer told the computer, then hauled a laughing Lister outside. “You’re incorrigible,” he admonished in his regular voice.

“I can’t help it. You’re all sexy when you’re talking to your ship as Ace,” Lister pouted as he leaned up for a kiss.

“It’s the voice. It melts women’s panties,” Rimmer explained with a grin.

“Your ship doesn’t have panties,” Lister reminded him with a slow hip roll. “And I’m hardly a woman.”

“Thank Io for that,” Rimmer muttered before pulling Lister to him. “One overbearing woman in love with me is enough.”

Lister slid his thigh between Rimmer’s legs and pressed upward. “Are you saying I’m overbearing?”

Rimmer’s eyes half-closed as his body responded to Lister’s attentions. Six months in, and every touch felt like the first. His hands slid down to cup Lister’s arse and pull him in closer while he lowered his mouth to Lister’s. The slow thrust of his tongue matched those of his hips, and soon Lister was making those sounds in the back of his throat that made his breath catch. Damn impressive, considering he didn’t have to breathe.

They’d made a makeshift lover’s nest out of one of the storage rooms in the landing bay, and Rimmer nudged Lister towards it. It fit a couple’s quarters mattress quite nicely, and Kryten – despite never, ever speaking of the thing between he and Lister – always supplied them with fresh sheets. The bed was still rumpled from their last ‘break’, but he didn’t care.

He doubted Lister noticed.

It certainly didn’t matter as (Lister) (Rimmer) managed to rip a corner of the top sheet in (Rimmer’s) (Lister’s) excitement this time. Before Lister could even see straight again, Rimmer was encouraging him for another round.

“Give us a breather, you insatiable freak,” Lister panted as he slapped Rimmer’s hand away from his groin.

Rimmer licked his lips and blew at the spot behind Lister’s ear.

“Smeeeeeg,” Lister whined, but reached back for a kiss. “Go on, then. Use me like your chew toy.”

“I’d rather use you as my boy toy,” Rimmer whispered in Lister’s ear, then sucked the earlobe. The gratifying moan of pure _want_ cut through him and he set to work making sure Lister knew he was the only love of his life.

The End

 


End file.
